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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30085836">And The Heavens Will Open</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress'>EmeraldHeiress</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Crying, Dai Bendu (Star Wars), Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage, Jedi Indentured AU, Lots of Crying, Mentioned Qui-Gon Jinn, Omega Anakin Skywalker, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Omega Qui-Gon Jinn, Whump, yep you read that right</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:53:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30085836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything <em>hurt</em>.</p>
<p>He didn’t know where he was but nothing smelled right. Too many mingled scents, too many harsh sounds. <em>Danger</em> hung in the air, in the Force, but he couldn’t make himself move. The world blurred around him.</p>
<p>What had happened? What was—</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>New SW Canon Server Works</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And The Heavens Will Open</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/gifts">ghostwriterofthemachine</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So the Attic made Indentured worse. </p>
<p>And <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/works">ghostwriterofthemachine</a> prompted me "The 5 Times Obi-Wan and Anakin Didn't Cry In Front of Each Other, and the One Time They Did"</p>
<p>This is the result.</p>
<p>The fabulous <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters">loosingletters</a> beta'd for me!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything <em>hurt</em>.</p>
<p>He didn’t know where he was but nothing smelled right. Too many mingled scents, too many harsh sounds. <em>Danger</em> hung in the air, in the Force, but he couldn’t make himself move. The world blurred around him.</p>
<p>What had happened? What was—</p>
<p>A spike of pain lanced through his belly and he remembered. Remembered the surprise attack on the village and the look on his master’s face as the raiders appeared. Remembered the needle and the drugs that made him weak. <em>Compliant</em>. Remembered the hours spent in agony, his arms wrapped around himself. His only comfort.</p>
<p>Remembered—</p>
<p>Rough hands slammed him down as he tried to rise. Tried to move. Tried to get to—</p>
<p>A cry rent the air. Soft, but growing louder.</p>
<p>The cry of a newborn, begging for the warmth of the one that bore them. For milk in its belly. A whine was dragged from Obi-Wan’s throat in response. Instinctive. Desperate. Calling back.</p>
<p>“Please,” he begged, pressing against the hands still holding him down. “Please, give him to me. Please give me my—”</p>
<p>“Quiet!”</p>
<p>An alpha growled above him, lilting her voice with ingrained command. Obi-Wan shuddered and fell silent; too weak, too hurt, to disobey. Her acrid scent grew stronger as she moved closer, flooding his senses. Too strong to smell anything else through. Too strong to smell…</p>
<p>The cry moved away, falling fainter.</p>
<p>They were taking it! They were taking his—</p>
<p>“<em>No!</em>” He gasped, instincts warring within him. “No, bring him back! Give me my—”</p>
<p>A starburst of white shattered his vision as a hand down across his face.</p>
<p>Then, everything turned black again.</p>
<p>When he woke the next time, he was alone.</p>
<p>The cold air stung as his tears left wet trails down his face.</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>The scent of smoke still lingered in his clothing. Still clung to his hair and skin. He could taste it on his tongue and at the back of his throat. The burn of it almost masked the sting of fresh tears welling in his eyes.</p>
<p>Mosaic tiles, artfully arranged and gleaming in the light, bit into his hands as he clenched the rim of the sink. Flares of pain radiated from his palms. He knew the skin of his knuckles had turned white, with how tightly his grip on the edge was. Still, he lingered.</p>
<p>Anakin slept, tucked away in a nest of fine linen and furs. Hand delivered by the Queen’s handmaidens. He had felt the tinge of exhaustion, of gratitude, of sorrow from them in the Force and accepted the offering gratefully. He knew his new padawan would appreciate the gesture, even if he may not understand it to the full extent yet.</p>
<p>And now…</p>
<p>The image of Qui-Gon, writhed in flames, flashed in front of his eyes. His face peaceful and still in death. His spirit one with the Force.</p>
<p>Finally free.</p>
<p>Free from the galaxy. From the politics. From the <em>Senate</em>.</p>
<p>The air was cool on Obi-Wan’s face against the wet trails on his cheeks.</p>
<p>He hadn’t always gotten along with Qui-Gon. He hadn’t always agreed with his master… with his <em>bearer</em>.</p>
<p>The older omega hadn’t wanted Obi-Wan as his padawan, at first. Hadn’t ever wanted anything to do with him. Obi-Wan had wondered if it was because he looked like his sire or…</p>
<p>Well, it didn’t matter.</p>
<p>
  <em>It didn’t matter.</em>
</p>
<p>Qui-Gon was <em>gone</em>.</p>
<p>He was gone and he’d left Obi-Wan with a small child to care of. To <em>train</em>. Cleaning up his messes all over again. And again and <em>again</em>—</p>
<p>He sobbed, the sound echoing in the space of the refresher. Obi-Wan peeled his hands away from the sink, disregarding the thin lines of red where the tile had cut into his skin, and pressed them to his mouth, stifling the sound.</p>
<p><em>Anakin</em>.</p>
<p>He couldn’t wake the boy. He couldn’t. <em>He— </em></p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>The words blinked at him in brilliant blue as he stared at the screen in his hands. Words he’d never ever thought he’d see.</p>
<p>His heart was lodged somewhere in his throat. When he swallowed, it wouldn’t move. The ground under his feet shifted, swaying in mimicry of the way his own world had shifted. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t—</p>
<p>A hand touched his shoulder.</p>
<p>He startled. The holopad fell from limp fingers, clattering to the table. It sounded dull to his ears — eclipsed by the sound of the blood rushing through his veins.</p>
<p>It couldn’t — he couldn’t—</p>
<p><em>Anakin</em>.</p>
<p>The hand tightened on his shoulder.</p>
<p>Someone called his name.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan. A voice, someone familiar.</p>
<p><em>Obi-Wan</em>. Someone he knew.</p>
<p>“Obi-Wan!”</p>
<p>Bant’s warm eyes stared into his. He could feel her concern through the Force. Her sorrow. He could feel his own pain seeping into the walls around him. His own grief.</p>
<p>“Breathe, Obi-Wan!” The air crackled with her demand.</p>
<p><em>Alpha</em>.</p>
<p>He breathed. A harsh gasp of air rushed into his lungs.</p>
<p>It burned.</p>
<p>He breathed again.</p>
<p>“Good, Obi-Wan.”</p>
<p>Her hand was cool on the back of his neck. Steadying him. Centering him.</p>
<p>“<em>Anakin</em>.”</p>
<p>The name fell from his lips like a prayer.</p>
<p>It wasn’t a name he had known. It wasn’t one he had heard before. It wasn’t one he would have chosen.</p>
<p>But it was a name that would be carved on his heart forever.</p>
<p>“Yes.” Bant said softly. “His name is Anakin.”</p>
<p>“<em>My</em> Anakin.”</p>
<p>As Obi-Wan reached for his friend, he realized they were on the floor. When did they move to the floor? He pushed the thought aside and tangled his fingers in her tunics, drawing her closer. She wrapped her arms around him.</p>
<p>Her familiar scent washed over him, reminding him of nights spent in the creche nest. Of warm piles of bodies spread across each other — before touching became a thing to be feared. Of days spent in innocence, not knowing of the lives that waited for them — or the evil lurking a mere speeder trip away.</p>
<p>“My <em>son</em>.”</p>
<p>Something rent in his chest and he burst into tears. Bant pressed his head into her shoulder and held him as he cried.</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>His legs trembled underneath him as he carefully walked down the corridor. Each step was a struggle to stay blank. To stay calm. To stay upright.</p>
<p>To preserve some of the little dignity that he had remaining.</p>
<p>The scent of alpha hung heavy in the air around him. It coated the back of his throat and lingered on his tongue. When he breathed, it was almost all he could smell. Sharp and dark, it stung at his nostrils; refusing to let him forget it was there. Refusing to let him forget how he was branded in it.</p>
<p><em>Claimed</em>.</p>
<p>He drew his cloak around him; his knuckles white against the dark fabric, clenching it together tightly.</p>
<p>The image of his mother flashed in front of his face. The beta woman that had taken him in as an infant. That had treated him as her own all of his life.</p>
<p>He could see the way she held herself in his mind. The strength in her back. The kindness in her soul. The love in her heart. All the things that still remained no matter how many times Watto had sent her visiting.</p>
<p>Anakin breathed out his pain, and humiliation, and fear, and breathed in <em>Shmi Skywalker</em>.</p>
<p>He stepped forward again, focusing on that image of his mother. On her lessons and her light and her love. He stepped forward again. One foot in front of the other. And another. Until the colors of the walls changed around him and he was somewhere else.</p>
<p>Until the halls grew darker, the light fading from the windows, and his legs finally gave out from under him.</p>
<p>Anakin’s breath hitched as he curled in on himself. The back of his throat stung.</p>
<p>He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this here. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t—</p>
<p>So many scents lingered in this hallway. Anyone could come along and—</p>
<p>He needed to <em>move</em>.</p>
<p>His master… Obi-Wan was waiting for him. Obi-Wan who—</p>
<p>Anakin felt tears prick the back of his eyes and a sob wrenched its way out of his throat. He stifled it with his robes.</p>
<p>When he had come to the Temple, it had become clear <em>oh-so-quickly</em> that he had only exchanged one master for another. One dark shadow of a building housing <em>oh-so-many </em>masters that the entire order were beholden to instead of just the one.</p>
<p>There were no chips buried underneath their skin. No collars tightly locked around their necks.</p>
<p>Instead, they lived in a gilded cage.</p>
<p>Halls of gleaming marble that grew cold without heat. Fresh-faced crechelings with bellies that growled without food. Strong bodies that went bare without clothing.</p>
<p>The chains that held the Jedi to the Senate were not physical. They were so intricate, so fine, so <em>invisible</em> that the only people that knew they existed at all were the ones on either end. But they were no less real than the chip that Master Che had dug out of his shoulder.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan…</p>
<p>Anakin had watched as Obi-Wan had come home again, to their den. Face blank as he came back from the Senate. The same scents lingering on his skin the way they had lingered on his mother’s. The same look lingering in his eyes.</p>
<p>Anakin had felt his <em>jaieh’s</em> stifled fear in the Force as he smoothly stepped in front of him, hiding Anakin from view whenever they were forced to play at politics for their missions. Had seen the tilt of his body and the lilt in his voice as he drew attention to himself… attention away from Anakin.</p>
<p>His <em>jaieh</em> had always protected him. They both knew, though, that it couldn’t last forever. They knew they clock had been ticking.</p>
<p>And now…</p>
<p>It had run out too fast.</p>
<p>They hadn’t expected the Chancellor to be the first to send for him. They had expected to make it past his first heat before… Anakin’s breath hitched. He bit his lip to hold back a whine and he pressed the soft cloth to his face again. The man had always seemed so <em>kind</em>.</p>
<p>The clatter of a cleaning droid broke the stillness of the hallway and Anakin jolted.</p>
<p>He needed to go. He needed…</p>
<p>
  <em>Obi-Wan. </em>
</p>
<p>Giving up dignity for necessity, he reached for the wall, pulling himself unsteadily to his feet. He wiped his eyes and face with the hemlines of his robes and tried for that quiet strength again. That strength for his <em>jaieh</em>… and for himself.</p>
<p>They would need it.</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>“What did you say?”</p>
<p>His mouth was dry. The world narrowed into the two of them, almost blurring at the edges of his vision. Almost fading…</p>
<p>The words came again. A little more hesitant — unsure — as if the man that had voiced them suddenly realized he should have kept that revelation to himself.</p>
<p>But it was too late to take them back.</p>
<p>To late to put the lid on that box.</p>
<p>Anakin wondered, vaguely, what the expression on his face looked like.</p>
<p>He stretched out a hand and took the datapad from loose fingers. Kix let it go without a fight, his eyes darting somewhere behind his commander. <em>Rex</em>. Anakin could smell the alpha faintly, through the scent dampening soap all the clones used to make packing so many of them onto a GAR ship bearable.</p>
<p>The screen repeated the words that had Kix had said. Clinically. <em>Dispassionately</em>. The date the match was made listed next to the results in Dai Bendu. Scrawled in Master Bant’s elegant writing, was a note, scanned in with the rest of his medical records.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Pai’a’ainru Obi-Wan im alun Anakin.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Obi-Wan said not to tell Anakin.</p>
<p>Ten years.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan had known for <em>ten kriffing years</em>.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan was his <em>bearer</em>.</p>
<p>Anakin could taste his own distress as it began to tinge the air. His own helpless anger. His own despair.</p>
<p>“Commander?”</p>
<p>A hand settled on his shoulder.</p>
<p>The datapad clattered as it hit the floor.</p>
<p>His feet moved of his own accord, pulling him away from the men. Pulling him away from the halls. Seeking something. Seeking…</p>
<p>The rush of air signaled a door opening. Anakin stepped through, allowing the familiar scents of his quarters — his <em>den</em> — to wash over him. Normally he would go to Obi-Wan. Curl up with his <em>jaieh</em> and breath in his scent. The act bringing the both of them the comfort they needed. The mingled scents of him and his <em>master </em>had always been calming. But right now — a flick of his fingers on the door panel locked it. Denying entrance to all.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why hadn’t Obi-Wan told him?</em>
</p>
<p>His mother’s image flashed in front of his eyes.</p>
<p>How had he wound up on Tatooine? The worst reasons dug at him. Tore at his heart. His eyes stung. Had Obi-Wan ever wanted him at all?</p>
<p>He didn't know.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan…</p>
<p>Memories began to push through the fog in his mind. With each step he took toward his bed — his nest — a new one bloomed.</p>
<p>Warm words of praise for his accomplishments. Gentle hands pressed against his forehead, checking if he had a temperature. Hot tea on a hard day. Soft smiles of pride. Obi-Wan stepping in front of him, to hide him from view. His <em>jaieh’s</em> smile turning brittle and hard with each new message from the Senate; counting the ones that bore Anakin’s name. The anger that tinted the air when the Chancellor’s name was spoken in conversation.</p>
<p>The warmth of his blankets was soft against his skin, surrounding him. Anakin buried himself in their comfort as his breath hitched. His eyes stung as they welled. He blinked and tears fell from his lashes.</p>
<p>Confusion warred with anger in his chest. With despair. With fear.</p>
<p>Why?</p>
<p>
  <em>Why!?</em>
</p>
<p>He didn’t know.</p>
<p>And Anakin wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>It had rippled through the Force. Depending on who you asked, it had felt like a wave at high tide. An earthquake tearing at the ground. A sandstorm, rising and ripping through the desert. But it had been felt by nearly every Force sensitive in the galaxy.</p>
<p>The welling rise of the Darkness and the crest of the storm. The fear that had echoed from the epicenter. And then, the plunge back into the Light. The sudden brightness that had suffused the Force again. The clarity.</p>
<p>There had only been three people that hadn’t felt it.</p>
<p>Three people that had been at the center of it. The Eye of the Storm.</p>
<p>Three people that stood. Two rose again.</p>
<p>One fell, crumpled in a pool of black.</p>
<p>Anakin stared in shock, trembling from where he had fallen. His eyes were glued to his mas— to <em>Obi-Wan</em>.</p>
<p>The older omega stood, face dirty and expression cold. Anakin could see the blade of his lightsaber shaking as it retreated back into the hilt, yet blue eyes never left the Chancellor’s still body.</p>
<p>The scent of rage and pain hung like a cloud over the office.</p>
<p>Silence filled the moment, seeming almost impenetrable. It seemed to stretch around them. A crystalline second of time.</p>
<p>But outside, the world moved on.</p>
<p>The body didn’t move.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan slowly relaxed.</p>
<p>The wound in his side twinged and Anakin winced. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining them red. He shifted. The crack of broken glass shattered the silence around them.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s head whipped around, pinning him in place.</p>
<p>Anakin couldn’t help the whine that pulled from his throat, low and long. The whine of a scared child to their parent.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan flinched. A moment later, he was rushing toward Anakin, picking his way over the broken remains of the once-grand office.</p>
<p>“What did you do?” The words slipped past Anakin’s lips before he realized he had spoken, plaintive and tremulous. <em>Scared</em>. “Obi-Wan, <em>what did we do?</em>”</p>
<p>Familiar hands reached for him. Warm and comforting. Carrying with them the scent of home. They cradled his face, wiping away the tears he hadn’t known he had shed.</p>
<p>“<em>Anakin</em>.” His name fell from his master’s mouth — from his <em>bearer’s</em> mouth — like a prayer. “<em>My </em>Anakin<em>.</em>”</p>
<p>Anakin reached back, tangling his hands in Obi-Wan’s robes as lips pressed gently against his forehead.</p>
<p><em>“Jaieh?</em>”</p>
<p>That curl of fear, of confusion, of distress still tinted his voice and he hated himself for it. Hated how little he remembered of what happened. Hated the oil-slick feel of the room around them, tinged with emotions and actions he wasn’t sure he could name. Wasn’t sure he wanted to name. Hated that half-haunted look on his master’s face.</p>
<p>“You’re safe now.”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s blue eyes held his and Anakin could smell the salt of their tears in the air.</p>
<p>“We’re all safe now.”</p>
<p>Arms wrapped around him, tucking him under his master’s chin just like when he was a child, and together they cried.</p>
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